He nodded slightly. "We belong to the Soviet Union. To the people who need protection against threats they don't know. The program... the people who run Division X and the Red Room, they know where we'll be needed." His lips pursed slightly. She knew this, they both did. And he took a breath to go on, or to apologize for telling her things she knew, or-- something, but then her lips had covered his, and coherent thoughts flew out of his head. There was just the rhythm of her kiss, all-encompassing as the sea...

His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her close, fingers digging into the wet strands... and he could feel that touch, feel every point of contact between them and the soft friction of the small motions. Head swimming, and yet his body knew exactly what to do - his hands, his arms, even the unreal one; his mouth and lips, the small sound in the back of his throat.

And, a small eternity later when his eyes met hers again, the quiet "yes" which he wasn't even certain which language he uttered in. It didn't matter. She did.

He was leaning in for another kiss when a small noise outside her window made him still, completely, even his breath held in, suddenly in full alertness. After an excruciating moment of worry - for her - his mind kicked in and suggested that it might be a late-night practice drill that he'd seen scheduled for some of the trainees.

Still, his voice was barely more than a loud breath when he explained, "practice."